We have two – yes, TWO – large glossy prints of the imaginary adventures of Tintin in Dublin and Cork by Grainne Tynan to give away.

Yes, it’s a Friday Tintin ‘Rick off.

When guilty of an online sin,
One must give the mob a chance to win,
By writing a ditty,
About old Cork City,
Two wonderful prints of Tintin.

John Moynes

All Cork/Dublin Tintimericks before 2pm.

Please express city preference.

You can purchase a print here

No cash, favours, posters, etc. were given for this post.

UPDATE: winners:

Dublin

There was a young lad called Tintin
Who loved an old Red Bull and gin
He smoked Jonny Blue
And Snowy did too
The scanger kingpin of Dublin

‘Ah Feck’

Cork

Tintin left The Pale just to see
If he’d find a new life by the Lee
But there weren’t any jobs
Folk talked like Eddie Hobbs
So he legged it back to Dublin 3

Aurora

That hideous Tory Nadine,
Was placed in a crate with umpteen,
Maggots, crickets and bugs,
And all manner of slugs.
This show’s so much fun it’s obscene.

John Moynes

(ITV)

The British are quite fond of art,
Though I must say I did give a start,
At the news that they’re very,
Pleased to look at old Gerry,
That really is some change of heart.

John Moynes

Don’t ask now for whom the bell rings,
When the puppeteers find that the strings,
Are ripped from their hands,
By the devious commands,
Of the men who still think they’re our kings.

John Moynes

(Leon Farrell/Photocall Ireland)

I throw up my hands and I sigh,
When I hear of this old Russian lie,
Which creeps through the years,
Breeding hatreds and fears,
And somehow refuses to die.

John Moynes

Every plebiscite should be a test,
Of ideas, so we see which one’s best.
Both Blueshirt and Sinn Féiner,
Accept this “no-brainer”,
It’s done, causa finita est.

John Moynes

(Laura Hutton/Photocall Ireland)

The meanies inside RTÉ,
Have killed my old fashioned TV,
How could this bleak morning,
Arrive without warning?
I’m stuck here with nothing to see.

John Moynes

Conservative harridan Ann,
Decided to stand by her man,
So she took a cruel poke,
At unfortunate folk,
Who she spits at, as only Ann can.

John Moynes

Remember the takeover bid,
For the Áras? Well heaven forbid,
Instead of old Squee,
We’d have had a baby,
His wife Trish, and before long, a kid.

John Moynes

(Photocall Ireland/GIS)

Our old friend Jittender Chhatar,
Has said something downright bizarre,
A rape, thinks this dude,
Can be caused just by food,
This half-wit has gone far too far.

John Moynes